


War Camp

by ImpossiblyShamelessEarthquake, Malleland



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood, M/M, Mild Gore, Night Terrors, Oral Sex, PTSD!Gaston, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Unhealthy Relationships, War Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-10-17 01:25:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10583517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpossiblyShamelessEarthquake/pseuds/ImpossiblyShamelessEarthquake, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malleland/pseuds/Malleland
Summary: For the Prompt:"What if some soldier realised LeFou was gay, and threatened to tell everybody. Then Gaston found out what's happening, and didn’t comment on it, but after the next battle said soldier had been found shot from behind. Gaston said everyone that means the man was a coward who shown his back to the enemy, but LeFou is only one who realised it was Gaston who shot the soldier. And LeFou has very mixed feelings about this, because, on one hand, he is grateful that Gaston went out of his way to protect him, but on another he is a bit scared of how casual Gaston is about killing one of his own men."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a prompt made by @reaty on Tumblr. We also extended a little more to explore their relationship at this period.  
> We counted with the help of @clingylefou, our beta :) who we really have to thank for the patience to correct our mistakes, since English is not our first language.

[](http://s306.photobucket.com/user/Malle182/media/Mobile%20Uploads/IMG-20170625-WA0003.jpg.html)

LeFou wanted to scream. Hell, he wanted to cry, to hurt himself in any physical way possible. How could he be so careless and stupid? So dumb and idiotic? So senseless and… maybe he did deserve his nickname. LeFou. Maybe he should be called something worse. He knew this would happen soon or later: being discovered by someone else and not being able to defend himself, or having to invent an excuse to hide the truth. 

It had all started when LeFou had gotten his weekly pass out of the soldiers camp to go to the nearest village. Being good friends with the Company Captain, Gaston, had its benefits. He was able to leave as often as he pleased. 

One particular night LeFou had gone to the local tavern, and gotten too drunk. The lights were too bright and the noise was too loud and the people were far too friendly. Before he realizing what he was doing, LeFou had fallen into another man’s lap, and gave a him a sloppy smile. He was young villager, LeFou recognized, and he had been staring at him since LeFou had arrived. 

It wasn’t LeFou who initiated the kiss, but LeFou definitely did not discourage it.

But the moment was short-lived. Lefou felt pinpricks on the back of his neck as if he were being watched. He stopped immediately, pushing the man away from him anxiously. He turned. Heart stopped. A man from the military base, caught his eye for a moment-- then turned and left the tavern.

LeFou wanted to follow him in attempt to ask him not to tell anyone, but couldn’t. His feet locked themselves in place. Among the anxiety, LeFou belatedly placed a name to the man who saw him: his name was William. They often did rounds together. Ate together.

Once LeFou was back in the camp and walking towards his tent, he defined his thoughts as separate things:

Find William. Talk to him.

William saw you, and has already told the entire battalion. 

You should pack your things and leave the camp. It’s better to be killed as a deserter than as a homosexual. 

When Gaston finds out he will demand a court-martial to order your execution. 

And lastly, he thought again: You should speak with William.

And so LeFou thought that his initial reflex would be the best option: talk to William to try to discourage him from what he would otherwise undoubtedly do. So he looked for the soldier, and after quite an extensive search, found him doing his guard.

“William!” LeFou said anxiously, “I- I'm glad I found you.” LeFou smiled, though nervously. He was shaking. “May I have a word with you?” 

There were many things William expected of LeFou, but the most likely would be for him to beg William to keep quiet about what he saw. But on what grounds would that be moral? 

God help him, there was a reason for a thing like that be forbidden under pain of death. The sight of LeFou tangled with another man as if he were a shameless camp-follower woman was going to haunt him until the day of his death. That was not right. In William’s mind, men who degrade themselves like that deserved to be hanged. 

And William would have brought justice already- but he couldn’t have. It would be his words against LeFou’s, and William was only a soldier when Lefou was the closest friend of the Captain. It would do no good.

William chose to stay silent for now, waiting for the moment LeFou committed a mistake again- and he would do it again, William was sure of it. Things like Lefou never knew when to stop- so that he could catch him in the act, and this time, there would be more witnesses. 

He was sure he wasn’t going to find any difficulties convincing soldiers to follow him when they found out what was going on inside their quarters. Besides that, he also knew how a lot of men were envious of LeFou’s position, and would do anything it took to take LeFou down and replace him. They may even testify William’s words without any proof.

For now, it was satisfying enough to see LeFou nervous, and William was really curious to listen to what excuse LeFou was about to tell him. He was sure LeFou wouldn’t be clean enough to assume his immorality. 

“A word about what, LeFou?” William responded, “Just be quick. It’s my watch, and I can’t be distracted.”

LeFou rested his rifle on the nearest tree, and ran a hand through his hair. 

“About… What you saw in the tavern.” His face was tense and his voice unsure. “I wish that could stay between us, you know. There is no need for anyone to know, I mean- I-” LeFou took a shuddering breath. He finished: “Please, William.” 

After a bit, Lefou tried to smile, but it ended up looking like a crooked expression. He said, “I can return the favor, of course.” 

William was wrought with outrage. He burst, “Stop it, LeFou!” William purses his lips, his heart sullen with anger and disgust. 

“Don’t try to drag me to your dirty pastime.” 

Suddenly, there was nothing fun about this conversation anymore, and William only wanted to get rid of LeFou as soon as possible.

“I would say it was only a drunken mistake, but we’re at the middle of a war and your obscenity can stain the whole battalion.” 

William said this, yet he knew he would never let LeFou get away with this, even at peaceful times. William just wanted to make him understand how despicable his actions were. 

“It’s my duty to take precautionary measures and cleanse us from this shame.”

“No, I wasn't talking about..!” 

LeFou's mind was becoming a desperate mess, and the right words didn't seem to come to him. Of course he wasn't offering those kind of favours to William. He would never do something like that. 

“What I meant was…” He took a deep breath, “Gaston is my friend, I can get you as many passes to the village as you wish. I can take you out of the front line, reduce your guards, give you more provisions… Anything as long as you ask.”  


LeFou’s voice became raspy, less cheerful. “Listen, I won't even visit the village myself anymore. I just had too many beers- I'm not like that. Believe me.”

William would be lying if he said he didn’t consider LeFou’s offerings. It would be nice to guarantee some benefits, and become close to the Captain. On the other hand, it was beyond his moral limits to be part of this madness. Though, there was one thing left to say. 

“LeFou, listen to yourself. Look at yourself. Of course you’re like that.” Rumors were all over the battalion, but few of them could actually imagine how bad the situation was. “And don’t you realize the fact you’re so close to the Captain makes everything worse? Do you want him to be seen with someone like you?”

But he could take advantage, why not? Let LeFou believe he was going to keep the exchange to himself, and William could enjoy more passes to the village, staying out of the front line’s danger for a while, and then he could tell the others about what he saw. LeFou would get what he deserved. 

William’s mind was made up. 

“I shouldn’t do this.” He pretended to be cogitative. “But I can’t let this information ruin our troop spirit. So I won’t say anything as long as you keep in mind how much you owe me. Do we have a deal?”

LeFou nodded and let go a breath of relief. “Yes, yes indeed!” 

He took some tiny piece of paper from his vest pocket and handed it to him, saying, “You can have my pass for next week. Here, you have it.” Then, he took his rifle from the tree, “And about Gaston, please just don't involve him in this. He is only my friend. I spend so much time with him because I help him manage the Company. That's it.” 

His eyes, though a little bit calmer than before, were still a little sad and scared.

“I’ll take it, because it’s good for you to be away from the village.” It was his excuse to accept the bribe, and still be able to put more guilt under Lefou’s skin. “I believe in our Captain’s integrity, and I know you aren’t capable of corrupting such a respectful man, so I’ll never say a word against him.” William took the pass from the other man’s hand, and looked at him as if he were a nasty thing that got stuck to the bottom of his shoe. “Now go away. I don’t want to be seen by your side.”

Biting his bottom lip, LeFou left William to finish his post. He was feeling, although a little bit relieved, nervous and so self conscious about his actions. Was he really so sick that he couldn't control himself and stop committing those sinful acts? Maybe he did deserve the hate and disgust of the company. Maybe he was disgusting and wrong after all. Right now, the bullying he had suffered before becoming Gaston’s right hand didn't seem that harsh. Maybe he deserved that and more. 

Once LeFou arrived at the Captain’s tent, he washed his face with the fresh, cold water from Gaston’s water tank. Sitting in the chair for Gaston’s desk, LeFou took note of all the letters, maps, and documents of the Company, classified information documents that in one way or another had been trusted to him. But that didn't matter anymore. LeFou buried his face in his hands and let go a painful lament.

Gaston appeared briskly, upbeat, and happy. He had just received information from the messenger, and the enemy's army was finally moving in their direction. They were going through a quiet period, and the soldiers were getting cranky and scared since they had nothing to do. But that was about to change. The Captain was expecting a glorious battle which would be a decisive step to the end of the war and the suffering of a people who had lost too much.

He was at the threshold of his tent, when he heard a loud and painful sound coming from inside, immediately recognizing who was there. 

“LeFou!” Gaston exclaimed, walking to his partner with confusion in his eyes. “Are you back from the village so soon?” 

But LeFou’s presence didn’t annoy Gaston at all. He grabbed LeFou by the shoulders. “It’s time to cheer up, my friend. The enemy took our bait, and the troops are marching to ambush.” He gave a squeeze on his friend’s shoulders, his eyes filled with excitement. “And you had the idea that made this possible.”

LeFou smiled weakly, but instead of focusing his attention on his friend's words, he began to fix Gaston’s neck jacket.

“No one should be that excited for a war. Not even when they are as brave as you.” He kept his hands on Gaston’s shoulders for a few seconds, “And I'm not feeling that well. That’s why I returned earlier from the village.” 

LeFou left Gaston’s side and focused his mind on the maps over the table behind him. “Gaston, do you think I can get more permissions to go to the village after the upcoming battle? You know, in case everything ends up well and I feel better?”

Even if his first reaction at LeFou’s reprehension was to be defensive, wondering why his friend couldn’t just let him enjoy that moment of victory, soon Gaston admitted that LeFou was right. He wasn’t supposed to be excited about the upcoming battle that would result in the deaths of so many soldiers. But still, something inside him had clicked off, and now Gaston was missing all emotions because of the battlefield. He missed the thrill, the blood pumping in his veins, the triumph of seeing another enemy falling… The thought was enough to make his heart starts beating faster. It was like hunting, but for a reason much more noble: to save his people. 

While watching LeFou walk away, Gaston noticed something was wrong, something serious. LeFou wasn’t telling him something, and Gaston hated it.

“One of the soldiers did you wrong?” He supported his hands on the wooden table where the maps were laid, facing the other man with doubt. “And that’s why you want to spend more time out of the camp? Or is there any lady from the village who has your favour?” 

Gaston didn’t appreciate the idea of LeFou courting a woman- because he needed LeFou’s full attention during the war, and he couldn’t afford sharing him with any girl now.

“A lady? No, it’s not that.” 

LeFou almost laughed at the insinuation, not only because he wasn’t interested in women, but because women never seemed to like him very much. 

“And none of the men are giving me any trouble other than jealousy over my position. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I just feel I could visit the local market and buy some vegetables and spices. I'm kind of tired of the camp’s food, and I was wondering if I could cook us some soup.” 

Although upon further reflection, saying such things may be a mistake. Now he would have to actually go to the market and get the needed provisions instead of just giving the passes to William. 

“Gaston, can I asked you something?” LeFou grabbed a compass from the table, “You never told me what happened to that soldier who was ordered a court martial under the suspicion of being- being involved with another man before joining the army force. What was his sentence?” He didn't actually wanted to hear the answer, fearing it would be too harsh to handle, but LeFou needed to consider all his options. 

“Scaffold.” Gaston answered, still facing LeFou and trying to read what the man had in mind. “After an exhaustive trial, he was hanged; however, the man who maintained a relationship with him is from an influent family, so he only had to leave the country, being prohibited to come back until the day of his death.” 

Why was this suddenly so important to Lefou? Gaston wondered. All of the questions, the evasive nature, rambling- Gaston became concerned. He stepped closer, analysing LeFou’s expression. Personally, Gaston didn’t have a strong opinion about whether or not it was right or wrong to hang a man for an action homosexuality. But if a crime was being committed among his Company, he needed to do something about it. That was what the court martial was for. 

Despite everything, Gaston still could not understand LeFou’s intention with the conversation. He paused.

“LeFou,” he said, “are you sure that there’s nothing you want to tell me?” 

“I'm just asking.” LeFou said defensively, sitting down on Gaston’s bed. “The men don't like me, you know that. And I wouldn't be surprise if they started saying things about me just for the sake of saying it.” 

Then, almost pleading, LeFou asked, “You wouldn’t believe them, would you?” 

At the first moment, Gaston didn’t answer the question. He slowly walked around the table to stop in front of LeFou. 

“This is the problem, isn’t it?” He sighed, reaching a hand down for the dagger in his belt to start playing with it, absently. “That they’re spreading rumours about you? You don’t have to worry. No one is going to hang you or hurt you, I promise.” 

Gaston’s finger slipped and he pricked his finger on the edge of the blade- he sucked air in between his teeth. Though whether the slip were on purpose or unintentional, Gaston couldn’t tell. His gaze reached LeFou once more.

“But, LeFou,” Gaston said, “you need to tell me. Is there any truth behind these rumours?” 

LeFou looked Gaston in the eye, a little taken back by the sudden question- but ultimately found himself distracted. He took Gaston’s hand in his own, watching the blood fall from his finger. 

“Gosh, Gaston! How can you ask me that? And look at your finger.” He took out his handkerchief and pressed his hand on the wound, “You might need a little alcohol.”

He turned around, looking for it on a shelf hanging on the wall. How could Gaston ask something like that? And also promise protection when there wasn't any for things like him? Part of LeFou believed it was cruelty, but this was Gaston. There must be more to it.

“That isn’t an answer, LeFou.” 

Gaston moaned with a whisper when the ache released the anger inside him; LeFou cleaned his wound with relative painlessness.

“I’ll look around and handle the occasional rumors, but the soldiers should be busy enough with the war. They won’t have time to do anything to you.” 

Gaston felt as if LeFou wasn’t telling him the entire truth of the situation. He would have to investigate further, maybe even go into the village and talk to people LeFou knew there in the tavern- For some reason, Gaston was consumed with the need to find if LeFou could actually be what the rumors entailed him to be.

Why did he care so much?

Walking to LeFou, Gaston grabbed his friend by his wrist and made LeFou look at him again. 

“Just don’t hide anything from me, do you hear me?”

Thoughts and feelings mixed together in his mind, his words came out more like a threat although he had no intention. His blood was still lit with the enthusiasm for battle.

LeFou nodded. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“I won't hide anything from you. I promise.” 

And he wouldn't. Not from that moment on, anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

[](http://s306.photobucket.com/user/Malle182/media/Mobile%20Uploads/IMG-20170625-WA0003.jpg.html)

The battle was the bloodiest and longest they had ever faced, and by the end of it, all soldiers, if not wounded or dead, seemed like living corpses walking through the earth in slow motion. LeFou had been shot in the leg, but it had been a clean wound, with the bullet just grazing his skin and not damaging any bone. He was counted lucky, though he would have to receive stitches and use crutches for a couple of days. 

Gaston was standing at the entrance of the medical tent, watching his men drag themselves to different tables, moaning and crying for help, sounding as if they were still in battle. In those moments, all dignity was forgotten, and Gaston couldn’t blame his compatriots. He had thought this battle was going to be easy, but the enemy troop seemed to know about the ambush, and they advanced with a homicidal and suicidal rhythm. It was a massacre from both sides, and the blood painting the ground as a red lake of death was going to haunt Gaston’s nightmares forever.

But he controlled himself and the need to be alone in order to stay beside his men. He controlled himself in order to raise their hopes for a quick recovery. He controlled himself in order to prepare the proper solemnity for the ones who did perish on battlefield, those who wouldn’t survive the wounds. He had no time to heal his own injuries, both physical and mental.

“Mark my words, LeFou,” Gaston said, “if someday you are sloppy enough to get shot and lose a limb, I won’t dismiss you.”

Gaston searched LeFou’s company, a gesture he was getting used to doing. There was something about LeFou that gave him the sanity he needed when he was losing his mental balance. Gaston needed him in ways he didn't want to acknowledge. LeFou got shot, and though he was fortunate enough not to be too severely harmed- what would happen next time? Gaston was terrified. So terrified in fact, it scared himself how much. 

LeFou smiled and rested his head on the pillow. “Don't worry, I won't die. Although I won't be able to do most of my duties, you know. I have to take care of my leg. So, you might as well give me a free week or something.” 

He smiled wider, even though his mind was still in shock from the fresh memories of battle. 

“The physicians gave me medicine… I don't know much about it, but I’m starting to feel better.” 

Suddenly his eyelids were feeling so heavy.

LeFou said, “I can barely remember the battle.” 

LeFou’s lips curved upwards a little, and Gaston was smiling back at him before he could even notice.

“Enjoy your free week. I guess we all deserve a rest.” 

The smile didn’t last though, and Gaston frowned again feeling his shoulder sore as a consequence of the weapon’s recoil during battle. 

“But you are not allowed to leave the camp, or go anywhere out of my sight.” 

Gaston’s head hurt every time he remembered William’s words and what he had to say about LeFou. It wasn’t difficult to find the soldier to blame for LeFou’s despair. Once William didn’t behave as discrete as he wanted to. It didn’t matter if what he said was the truth or not. Gaston would be dead before allowing this to happen again.

Only when the physician approached them, asking if it was a bad time, did Gaston noticed he was clenching his jaw and pressing his lips together in anger. He nodded his head, encouraging the man to speak.

“It’s about William, the soldier we found bleeding out in the field. He died before he could say anything, but we noticed he was shot from behind and he barely left the formation.” A small pause followed his words. The physician was hesitating. “I believe, Sir, he was shot by someone of our own Company.”

Gaston didn’t flinch. Actually, Gaston seemed too calm save for the metallic and unspeakable shine in his eyes. 

“William was a coward,” Gaston finally said, “and this wouldn’t be his first try of desertion.” 

He stood, facing the doctor with an expression that wouldn’t accept any objections.

“He was shot from behind because he turned his back to the enemy in attempt to escape. The battle was terrifying. We all saw it. A man like him, one to flee from the side of his country, deserves no honor. No respect. Leave his body on the battlefield to rot.”

With eyes closed, LeFou was still able to hear the conversation, even though it seemed to be happening so far away.

Then- Something clicked in LeFou’s brain. The gunshots. The screams. The ache in the muscle of his hands. 

He remembered gripping the rifle too tense. He remembered the enemy approaching. He remembered William, standing next to Gaston, and fighting bravely against two soldiers. 

He remembered Gaston killing three men with his sword, and he remembered a field clear of anyone but friends. 

The enemies were gone. 

LeFou’s heart rate jumped. He remembered. He remembered Gaston sheathing his sword, dragging a pistol from his belt, pointing to William’s back… and firing. LeFou could see it as clear as day: William dying, and Gaston stepping over his body to return fire to the enemy lines, continuing the battle.

LeFou fought the insistent drugs to keep him unconscious, but in the end he became subdued. He fell asleep with that last thought: William lying on the ground, spitting blood from his mouth, and looking at Death with hollow eyes. 

The next morning, LeFou was able to leave the nursing tent. He walked with the aid of a pair of crutches under his armpits, and a little bottle of pain relief medicine. He went straight to his tent, which wasn't big as Gaston’s but it was comfortable and spacious enough to fit a small bed, some shelves,a table, and an old trunk keeping all his clothes away from sign. 

He needed to talk to Gaston. Tell him he now was able to remember clearer, and knew what had truly happened to William. But another part of him was afraid to learn why Gaston had committed such act of treason.

Gaston had been training the younger soldiers to fight with longswords on the battlefield since morning. His body was still sore from the battle. Bruises and wounds muddled his movements, and the young boys were still shaken with the massacre they witnessed; yet despite all of this, Gaston couldn't bring himself to rest. Something inside him, (which was growing stronger every battle,) only calmed down through the adrenaline rush of war and battle. Not only did the training calm Gaston’s nerves, but he had to prepare the soldiers, make them even more skillful so that more of them could survive the war.

The only break in training was when he visited the nursing tent again to be updated on those who were injured.After a talk with the physician, he was told Lefou had been discharged, already resting in his tent.

Gaston nodded, turning to find his friend.

Upon entering Lefou’s dwelling, Gaston said, “So, LeFou, how are you handling the crutches?” 

Gaston feigned a smile. He believed that the worst part about getting shot was the crutches, being unable to move properly. Of course, he was there to see how his friend was, but he also wanted to make sure Lefou was still at the camp. And without suspicious companionship.

LeFou’s stomach did a little somersault when he heard Gaston’s voice.

“Gaston,” he started, “I didn't hear you coming in.”

He left his folded shirt on top of his clean clothing pile over the table.

“I can't seem to get used to them. I'm glad it won't be that much longer before I can get rid of them.” 

A smile appeared on his lips, but as soon as it did, it vanished.

“I'm glad you are here. Although, you should be resting, not out training new privates.” LeFou sat down on the edge of his bed, resting his leg on a little bench. 

“We can’t afford losing time,” Gaston justified himself. 

LeFou had a point, but this time it wasn’t enough to make him think twice, and the unrest inside him was still begging him to get back to training.

In an attempt to amuse Lefou, Gaston said, “And my more reliable soldier is stuck with crutches, so I have to make up for this.” Though the mood hardly lifted. 

Lefou smiled soberly to himself, remembering the matter at hand. 

“I… need to talk to you,” he stared, “and… It’s kind of a delicate matter.”

Gaston, who had too many serious and unpleasant talks about “kindness” lately, felt snappish at the introduction. He had a feeling this talk wouldn't be any better than the others. 

“Just say it, LeFou. We’re already talking.”

LeFou lowered his eyes at the tone. He felt uneasy. But he needed to know the truth.

“Gaston, my mind wasn't working properly yesterday after the battle, but now I’m remembering things clearly. I want to believe my memory is faulty, but…” 

He trailed off, hesitant. His leg was starting to hurt badly, and even though it wasn’t such a deep wound, the skin had been broken and it was a long, fresh cut. He pushed the pain aside. He had to finish. 

“The thing is…” he started, “I saw you. I saw what you did to William. I-” he paused, taking a moment, and finished off with a broken voice: “I know you killed him.” 

Gaston pursed his lips. Even after his death, the soldier was still giving him trouble. 

With a sigh and an unconvincing curve to his lips on what he expected to be a condescending smile, Gaston crouched in front of Lefou. 

“Listen to yourself, LeFou.” His voice was steady and almost friendly. “You think I killed one of my own soldiers? Why would I do that?” 

It was impossible to speak his name out loud without having a furious attack. He laid one of his hands on LeFou’s wounded leg in a gesture that could be understood as a support or a threat. He pressed down with a firm weight. 

“I know you’re having a difficult time, but don’t you think you’re taking too much painkillers? It’s already affecting your sense of reality.”

A small moan escaped LeFou’s lips. He put his hand over Gaston’s in an attempt to stop him from pressing further. Lefou knew that Gaston wouldn’t hurt him on purpose. All he needed to do was ask him to stop. 

“...I know what I saw, Gaston. I just want to know why.” He moaned louder, “Please, Gaston. Stop pushing my leg. It hurts so much already. I need my medicine.”

“I don’t think you need medicine at all. You’re clearly not thinking straight.” 

His hands locked LeFou’s leg like an iron fist. 

“Do you want to die, Lefou? Do you want to face the court martial and be obligated to confess everything about that night on the alley?” 

Gaston still wanted to believe this was a lie, that William was only bluffing to get LeFou out of his way. But he needed to see his friend’s reaction, to see him denying or confirming the accusation. 

“With the accusations he made of you, why are you upset over his death?” He started to raise his voice, giving up the intention to look calm.

LeFou paled. 

“He… He told you about it?” 

He closed his eyes, putting his hands over his face. His heart plummeted, and his spirits crushed themselves. He didn't know what to do or what to say. 

“I… I didn't... Oh, God.” A tear rolled down his left cheek. “He promised he wouldn't… He promised it.” 

He tried to catch some air, but the air was suddenly feeling so heavy. 

“Please, I don't feel good…” Everything was feeling out of control. Now Gaston knew everything. Now Gaston had killed a man, a fellow soldier, a man of his company. He had killed him in cold blood. That was treason. That was murder. 

“And did you believe him? Because I believed you, and you were lying to me.” 

He was blind to Lefou’s pleas. The anger burst in his chest, and threatened to consume his whole body like a torch. 

“I did my best, didn’t I? I gave you all the permissions you could have. I let you do whatever you wanted. I protected you from everybody. And how did you pay me?” 

Gaston stood in a outburst, kicking away the bench that LeFou was using to support his leg. He was screaming, and couldn’t care less if someone outside the tent was listening. 

“You went to that damn village, and…” He gasped, losing his voice, and he needed to walk a bit to collect himself. Looking for support before proceeding, Gaston continued in a dangerous whisper: “I should go there and kill the peasant who dared to put his filthy hands on a soldier.”

LeFou’s leg hurt so much. He let out a painful growl. 

“Why are you doing this?! God!” He managed to get his leg on the bed, but noticed a big red spot on the bandages. “You said you would protect me. You said you wouldn't let anyone hurt me, but now…” 

LeFou couldn't contain his great and frustration any longer. 

“You just murdered a soldier of your own company, and want to kill a simple villager because his encounter with me? You wanted to protect me from the court martial, but I’d rather be judged for being who I am than have the weight of a murder on my shoulders.” 

He ran his sleeve across his eyes and cheeks, wiping away the tears. He shouldn't cry. He shouldn't be so weak.

Gaston felt his last trace of patience vanishing when LeFou started to defend the villager, but he was still able to take a deep breath. 

“You are an ungrateful thing. I risked myself…” He stopped when he realized it was still sounding as a threat. “That was not murder, LeFou. William was a criminal, remember? He was blackmailing you, and that’s wrong.” 

Sitting on his friend’s side on the bed, he tried to show he was actually attempting to comfort him. He felt he didn’t succeed much.

“I were only his judge and executioner. And I would do it again if I needed because I would do anything to protect you.” 

And try as he might, Gaston’s words still brought hostility instead of solace. 

His gaze fell to LeFou’s leg, only now noticing the stain of blood on the bandage, and that he was the one to blame for it. His heart fell. He was upset with himself. Here he claimed to protect his friend where he was presently harming him. 

“We need to change the curative. I’m sorry about that…” 

He was actually sorry, but it was difficult to go on with the apology while he was assaulted with images from the alley and what had happened. He hadn't been there, and William wasn’t a great storyteller, but Gaston could still imagine LeFou and the villager which was enough to flood him with an unbearable feeling. 

“Don’t turn your back on me, LeFou,” Gaston beseeched.

LeFou didn't take his eyes from his leg. He didn’t miss any single word coming from Gaston’s mouth. 

“I just don't understand why you have to be so upset with me-” Lefou searched for words. “Spending time with a villager, and not actually preferring the company of men.” 

He finally looked at Gaston in the eye.

“William was right, you know? He truly was.” 

LeFou passed his tongue across his lips.

“I was just… Drunk, and feeling lonely, and… You weren't there.” He didn't know why he added that last part, but he continued anyway, “I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth sooner, I really am. And I'm sorry you had to find out from William, but I was scared. I was afraid of your reaction, of what you would think of me.” He took a deep breath, “Why did you have to kill William, Gaston? And so… easily. Please, tell me it was at least difficult to do it.”

“What the soldiers do in their spare time is none of my concern, as long as it doesn’t affect their efficiency,” Gaston said. 

It justified the first part of the question, but for sure didn’t explain why it bothered Gaston so much to imagine LeFou with a villager. Or any other man. It didn’t really make difference if it was a villager, a soldier, or a noble, he would be dead before letting that happen again. But Gaston was not willing to think about it now. The most important part was to hear how the villager wasn’t important to Lefou. Knowing that filled Gaston with immeasurable relief. 

“I shouldn’t had left you all alone that night,” Gaston said firmly, “I suppose, this is all my fault after all.” 

But Gaston knew one thing for certain. If he’d been there, anyone who dared to stare at LeFou for too long, Gaston would have ripped limb from limb.

The air stayed quiet between them, and Gaston remembered Lefou’s last question. It wasn’t difficult to answer. It was honest. Blunt. True. But it was not what Lefou wanted to hear.

"It was easy,” Gaston admitted, “So easy." 

The words felt sticky in his throat, and he wished he could tell otherwise. Though since the very beginning of their friendship, Gaston noticed he couldn't lie to LeFou. This time was no different. 

"William became my enemy the moment he threatened you. I killed him just as I would kill any other adversary.” He pauses. “I enjoyed watching him fall." 

Lefou was speechless. Gaston held his breath. 

"And now I feel nothing at all."

That was also true. It was becoming pretty common for him to alternate between moments of extreme rage to moments when he felt empty of any emotion as if nothing but darkness dwelled inside him. 

The way Gaston could lose his temper so easily was what terrified LeFou the most. He had witnessed several times how Gaston had used physical force to relieve his frustration and anger at something, but LeFou had never imagined being the target of such misfortune. Now, the pain in his leg proved him wrong, and that made his heart race at such fast pace. What if someday Gaston started to see LeFou as an enemy? What would happen then? Would he just kill him? LeFou washed that thought away from his mind as fast as he could. He had to believe Gaston would always see him in an amicable light. 

“What happens if I visit the village again? What happens if you find out I was spending time with another man?” He dared to ask. 

"Why are you haunting me with such questions?” Gaston challenged. “Do you want me to say I would burn the whole village? That I wouldn’t give you permission to leave the camp anymore?” 

Gaston’s heart hurt with the accusation. It was getting more difficult to breathe. 

“Don’t try me, LeFou. I would it. You know I would.” 

Perhaps he wouldn’t burn the village, but he would tie LeFou to the wooden post in his tent if he tried to disobey. 

"Don't you think you already cause too much pain?" 

Gaston’s mood swings were going to drain all of his sanity. LeFou never talked much about women, but Gaston had never thought he might have this kind of interest. He was always sure LeFou was his, and no one would take him from his side. 

LeFou remained silent for the next half minute, just trying to process all the words that were said. He was being treated like a possession. Like an object belonging to Gaston. But there remained the possibility he was misunderstanding. 

So he asked, “What about when the war ends? What about when you are no longer my Captain?” 

LeFou’s heart thundered. He felt regret once the words left his lips. Maybe he was pushing too hard. Maybe he was understanding things perfectly, and Gaston truly was envious of his attention to other men. But could that even be possible?

Gaston’s expression fell deadly. He didn't answer. He knew he couldn't control LeFou after the war, but at the same time he couldn't acquiesce. It wasn't in his nature. Gaston fought for what he wanted, and did not compromise. If he wanted LeFou, he would have him. 

Leaning over his friend, Gaston held his chin. Lefou’s skin was soft. His breath was warm against his fingers. LeFou blinked at the sudden attention, and Gaston held him firmly. LeFou would not look away from him.

“When the war ends, I won’t be able to stop you from doing anything.” The grip on his face got stronger, but not violent. The emptiness was being filled with irritation again, which he held back with effort that almost made him quiver. “But I’ll still be your friend, won’t I? Why would you want to make me upset like that? Why would you waste time with any man besides me?”

This seemed to get too close to the truth of reality for Gaston to continue thinking like this. His body was in more painful than ever, and only now he noticed how he was tensing his muscles. Not even the training seemed enough to wash away his problems. He needed to drink. He needed… Needed to do anything to just forget everything, especially the image of LeFou bound with another man. 

Gaston stood, feeling the urge to leave and breathe fresh air, knowing his friend couldn’t do anything against him while he still had crutches.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to @clingylefou for being our wonderful beta! <3

[](http://s306.photobucket.com/user/Malle182/media/Mobile%20Uploads/IMG-20170625-WA0003.jpg.html)

A week had passed, and the war had officially come to an end a couple of days ago. So, it was time for celebration, for singing and dancing. There was no need to have a pass to be able to go to the village. Hell! There was no need to go to the village at all, for the beer and wine had been introduced to the camp, as well as gambling and prostitutes. 

LeFou had finally gotten rid of the crutches, but wasn't able to share his joy with Gaston, for Gaston had been a little distant and ‘busy’ with the preparations to dismount the camp. Lefou was excited to finally going back home to his farm in his little town. His Nana had died and left him the property, but he hadn’t being able to take care of it because of the war. Now, though, he would be able to do it. 

The war ended sooner than Gaston was expecting, and despite his crescent addiction on battles, the triumph seemed to put all behind. People had him as a hero. They worshipped him more than ever. The toasts were in his name, and the victory had successfully filled the previous dark emptiness. At the end of things, he protected his people.

He finally relaxed and allowed himself to cheer with the soldiers in beer, in song, and in stories of battle moments being retold with more exaggeration than facts. He could have said he drank more than he should, but he hardly drinks during war except on very special occasions. That was the disadvantage of being the Captain. He couldn’t just drink away his feelings when it would also reduce his attention to what was happening. Now that he was free of the charge, he had to make up for lost time. 

Nothing should be bothering him, but there was something that not even the alcohol could erase of his mind. That was the end of the war. LeFou was rid of the crutches. LeFou was free to do whatever he wanted to; and even with the new freedom, he was not by his side celebrating. He had every ability to leave for that cursed village while Gaston was with the company of the beers. This was the craziest idea he could ever conceive, so he had to do something to stop it.

It was true that Gaston was drunk, but he was strong enough to drink without becoming incoherent. He could walk perfectly straight, and he kept enough cleverness to look for LeFou first in his tent. If his friend wasn’t there, then he should be worried. 

It was a relief to find him there. 

“How long did you think you could avoid me for?”

Gaston was sober enough to know he was the one who was distant, but not sober enough to care about that. In his regards, Lefou was absent from his side. That meant avoidance. 

LeFou stopped folding the maps and documents that had being over his table for quite too long. He took a good look at Gaston, and immediately could tell something was out of place.

“Gosh, Gaston. You’re drunk.” He said, as he closed the big trunk on the floor. “I can see you’ve been celebrating instead of preparing for the trip back home, but I guess you deserve it.” 

His leg was still a little sensitive, but there were no trace of a limp, for what he was grateful. 

“You should go to sleep. You are going to have a strong headache in the morning.” 

Watching Gaston while he was drunk wasn't anything new for LeFou, but he could count the occasion with only one of his hands, for which he was thankful.

“I’ve only had a few mugs of beer,” Gaston said defensively. He believed the accusation to be an attempt to divert Gaston's attention from more important matters. 

“I was celebrating, and you should have been celebrating with me. Instead, you’re here,” He advanced toward LeFou, capturing his face between his hands. “Tell me: are you happy to be free of me? Do you believe I will allow you to leave me?

“I won’t let it happen. No one can leave me like this.” 

Resting his forehead against LeFou’s, he stared directly to his eyes, breathing so heavy he almost felt dizzy.

He repeated: “You can’t leave me like this.”

The feeling of Gaston so close to him had being always his weakness. LeFou could smell the alcohol in Gaston’s breath as he breathed hotly over his cheek. But it didn't matter. Now wasn't the moment for stupid feelings and wild dreams. 

“I’m not going to leave you, Gaston. I would never do that.” He passed his hand along Gaston’s cheek. “I actually wanted to ask you if you’d be willing to go to the farm with me. Now that the war is over, maybe we could spend some time there.”

Gaston let out a broken laugh of relief, breathless, while he allowed himself to believe LeFou was telling the truth. 

“Of course I’ll go to the farm. Someone needs to take care of you.”

Gaston allowed himself to put on the facade that LeFou needed Gaston more than the other way around. Gaston wasn't able to face the truth of how badly Gaston needed him. 

He hugged LeFou tight, possessively, burying his face on his neck while tangling his hair on his fingers. 

“And to stop you from being intimate with men,” Gaston said, “Someone needs to oversee that.” He couldn't stand the thought of seeing LeFou with anyone else. He needed to make that clear. 

LeFou didn’t know what that meant, and didn’t want dwell on it. Gaston sighed again, pressing his lips on the skin of LeFou’s neck. Once, twice, and one more time. He was being guided by his instincts, but his drunken control was lax. He couldn’t stop. The only actions he wanted to control were Lefou’s. He wanted to lock his friend to himself, to make sure he would be adored so much by him that LeFou would never turn away.

LeFou closed his eyes, just enjoying the moment of closeness. He had had opportunities to feel Gaston’s body against his, but never this intimate. He could feel Gaston’s lips against his neck. It was driving him insane.

“Maybe you should sleep a little. Let the alcohol get out of your system.” He put his hands on Gaston’s chest, “Why don't you lay down on the bed? Come on.” 

“Are you rejecting me, LeFou?” Gaston was able to let one last kiss fall on LeFou’s jaw before moving his lips away from his skin, but without letting the other break the embrace. “Or are you hitting on me?” 

One of his hands kept a tight grip on his hair while the other was pulling LeFou’s body against his by the waistband of his trousers. 

“You want me on your bed?”

The next kiss was on his chin, then on the corner of his lips, and the thrilling feeling possessing LeFou’s body every time his lips met LeFou’s skin was enough to send away the numbness of the alcohol.

“Please…” Lefou whispered, “I don't want you to do something you will regret in the morning.” 

He wanted to kiss Gaston. More than anything he wanted to kiss Gaston. He had dreamt of it so many times, but now that it was almost happening it didn't seem right. Gaston was drunk, and obviously not thinking clearly. 

“Come on, let's go to bed.” LeFou circled Gaston’s waist with his arm, trying to push him towards his mattress. 

“What would I regret?” The question was sincere.

Gaston let LeFou push him to bed even if he was not convinced if he should sleep at all. He let go of his friend’s hair and trousers, sitting on the mattress and holding his hand, interlacing their fingers while still facing him.

“I’ve wanted to do this since…” 

He was not sure when he actually started feeling attracted to LeFou. Maybe since the beginning of the war? When they won the first battle? The only thing he knew for sure was that it took him too long to notice, and now he couldn’t wait anymore.

“It doesn’t matter. I want you now, LeFou.”

He pulled LeFou once more, taking advantage of his own strength to make LeFou sit on his lap before any protest.

“You almost drove me insane making me imagine another man laying his hands on you.” 

Gaston ran his hands along LeFou’s tights, holding his waist to pull him closer. One thing was true: it was the alcohol making his tongue loose, otherwise he wouldn’t confess everything he’d been thinking.

LeFou didn't know how to react. His mind was processing everything in a foreign way, and while his body was saying ‘Oh, fuck. Yes!’, his brain was… Well, it wasn't actually telling him anything at the moment. So, he returned the given kisses to Gaston’s lips, wishing to be able to enjoy the moment and forget about the What if’s, the Perhaps’, the Maybe’s.

“I…” LeFou whispered. “I want to make you feel good. 

Gaston let a groan roll of his throat when LeFou finally stopped avoiding his touches, and he could feel LeFou’s lips against his own. There was no chance he would LeFou go after hearing those words.

“Then why are you trying to push me away when we both want the same thing?” 

He reached LeFou for a longer kiss now, feeling his body vibrate with the sensation. If he felt something similar before, he couldn’t remember, because it was so different from the women he had been with. Not only because LeFou was a man. There was something more.

The questions and doubts had suddenly left LeFou’s mind, and he no longer cared if Gaston didn't remember a thing in the morning, or if he would be mad about it. Now was the moment he had dreamt about, and it was better than he had imagined. So, he managed to undo Gaston’s belt, and was able to push his hand under his trousers and underwear, allowing himself to feel for the very first time his friend's manhood… It was incredible: thick and hard, big and ready for something more. 

“I want you in my mouth, Gaston,” LeFou let out among kisses. 

Gaston only realized how hard he was when he felt LeFou’s hand slipping inside his pants to hold his length. He didn’t want to think about if LeFou had already went this far with another guy, but he was too good. Too good for that to be his first time. 

Then, LeFou’s words hit him; Gaston hissed at the idea of having LeFou’s mouth on him.

"Of course you do." Gaston just couldn't stop being so full of himself, even when he was so overwhelmed by everything. 

But it was difficult to let LeFou out of the kiss. His mouth seemed to be the most fiery thing Gaston had ever tasted.

“What's with you that makes go crazy like this?" Once more, the alcohol made he say things he wouldn't even admit to himself when sober. 

But it was almost scary how they hadn't even done anything yet, and he was so hot already. Gaston gave a bite to LeFou’s lower lip, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. He finally let go because there was other parts of LeFou’s body that were starving for attention.

LeFou managed to lower himself between Gaston’s legs and, now on his knees, he began to stroke the hard cock in front of him, just to start licking the tip after a minute. He had never been such a fan of doing that to another man. It just felt denigrated and unnatural. But this was Gaston he was talking about, so he was willing to make him feel good. 

A couple of minutes later, LeFou was able to take Gaston’s whole length in his mouth, and although he was quite large, LeFou managed to deepthroat him. It was hypnotizing to see LeFou between his legs, and Gaston didn’t contain a moan when he felt the lips against his manhood. LeFou’s head was moving up and down between Gaston's legs, and the taste wasn't bad at all. LeFou was actually quite enjoying it himself. 

Gaston made an effort to keep his eyes open, and to restrain himself not to thrust into his friend’s mouth, especially in the moment LeFou dipped further and Gaston could feel the back of his throat. How could he even do something like that?

But LeFou had to forced himself to stop to ask, and raise his gaze to Gaston in front of him, “Do you want to finish like this?”

It took Gaston a while to settle his mind down and understand what LeFou was asking. He said: “There’s still so many things I want to do with you.” 

For the first time he hated that he was drunk. Being intoxicated and with LeFou doing the things they were-- he wouldn’t last too long. So, he tried to read his friend’s expression, trying to understand what he wanted-- hell, he couldn’t be LeFou’s first, but he would be damned if he couldn’t be LeFou’s best.

Finally, he made up his mind, holding LeFou’s hand to bring him back to his lap again. 

“Maybe another time,” Gaston suggested. 

He breathed deeply with his own mention of ‘another time’. Because how could him not do it again after he had tasted it? 

“Come here.” 

With a twist, Gaston pushed LeFou to the mattress, immediately crawling over him like a predator, and slotting himself between his legs. He took his time to lock their lips once again, even if he was always so displeased with the idea of kissing someone after doing what LeFou had done. It seemed so dirty. But the rules didn’t apply to his friend.

“I really want to see you come,” Gaston whispered against LeFou’s lips, “I want you to finish before I do.”

One of his hands found its way down the body beneath him, finally grasping LeFou’s erection. It was a different, odd sensation, but at the same time not bad at all. He moved his hand, experimenting along the length with little squeezes while keeping his attention on LeFou’s reaction. He became more urgent in his movements, lowering his body, and thrusting against Lefou, making their hips roll together, silently moaning with the inebriation of the friction, even with LeFou’s trousers still between them.

LeFou moaned, breathed heavily. He could feel Gaston's length on his groin, but it wasn't enough. 

“Please…” he said urgently, “I need more.” His pants were getting so tight. “Take my trousers off.” 

He caught Gaston’s lips between his own, kissing him desperately and deeply. But it didn't last long, for LeFou shifted a little bit, breaking the kiss and resting his weight on his elbows. 

“I want you inside me. I can't take it any longer. Please .” He looked Gaston in the eye, then suddenly turned around in the bed, undoing his trousers and pulling them down a little. 

Gaston had no argument. He smiled widely, remembering how LeFou tried to push him away at first, and how needy he was beneath him now. Gaston was always telling himself he was irresistible, but he was craving to know how irresistible he was to LeFou. That LeFou could never abandon him. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He breathed out while facing LeFou’s back.

His eyes lingered on the way LeFou’s hair was a tempting mess over his face and neck, on how he was positioning himself impatiently, and then lingered on the skin left exposed when LeFou started to pull away his trousers. Leaning over him, but without letting his body touch him for now, he finished removing the fabric, too concentrated on memorizing every curve of his friend to rush. 

Gaston kissed the skin just over his bum and worked his way down before leaving a light bite. He rubbed his lips against the soft skin and left a trail of kisses to his neck.

“This won’t hurt you?” Gaston’s voice was heavy, impatient, but he needed to ask. Pressing his body against LeFou’s back, he pinned LeFou to the mattress in a possessive way, leaving a kiss behind his ear before giving a small bite to his earlobe.

LeFou had put his arms around the pillow under his head when he first felt Gaston's lips over his body. He thrust against the mattress to try to calm his desires a little bit.

“It’s going to, but that’s part of it. It will also feel good, don't worry.” Most of the time it hurt like hell, because most of the time the men were drunk or didn't know what they were doing. But he trusted Gaston. He wanted this. 

LeFou didn't remember how many times the men had been so drunk to care if they hurt him or not; or too afraid of his attraction to other men that they thought doing it as roughly as they could was necessary to conserve their manliness. One guy had even hit him once, right before taking him right there and then… LeFou had never returned to that tavern again. 

But now it was different. Now he was with Gaston. Now, the world seemed perfect, and the memories of war so far away. Now, he could start living freer, for his true feelings had been revealed and accepted at the same time.

Even if his manhood was painfully throbbing with the idea of waiting a little longer, Gaston kept kissing behind LeFou’s ear, and then the back of his neck. He wanted LeFou so badly, but also wanted him to feel as little pain as possible. Following his instincts, he inserted three fingers into his own mouth, and twirled his tongue between them before reaching LeFou’s waist again and pulling LeFou’s hips up and toward him. 

“Tell me if it’s too much.” He breathed against LeFou’s shoulders, starting to press one of the fingers inside him.

Almost immediately after the first, Gaston inserted the second one, moving them together and making small circles on their way in. Gaston was used to take things slow when he needed to, because how else would he keep his godlike figure if he was rubbish in bed? If the women he bedded didn’t cry out while having the best orgasm of their lives? He had to be perfect at everything.

“Is everything fine?” He asked before the third finger. His voice sounded like a heavy groan. This whole thing was affecting him more than he would like to admit.

LeFou shut his eyes and frowned, letting a small growl, “No, it's fine… just…” He hugged the pillow even harder, “Let me get use to it.” 

The sensation was painfully pleasant, but he knew it would be true pain once Gaston decided to get himself inside him. His body had always protested while doing that, and even though he had some experience, pain was always part of the deal. But he had learned to hold himself together and focus on something else while his body got used to the foreign sensation. 

Gaston hummed something in agreement, leaning his forehead against the other’s neck, and taking a deep breath. He finished moving the third finger inside him. Stopping for a moment, he gave LeFou time to adjust, and the break also helped Gaston control himself.

“This is too good.” Gaston whispered, leading his free hand to find LeFou’s erection again, softly stroking in an attempt to make things easier for him. “Can’t wait to be inside you.”

LeFou turned his head to catch Gaston’s lips on his own, and gave him a deep but quick kiss.

“Do it…” He took a deep breath, buried his face further into the pillow, and let go a small moan when he started feeling Gaston pushing inside. “You can push all the way in, I'll be fine.” LeFou whispered when he felt Gaston's length only half way in. 

Gaston was trying to control himself, but the way LeFou was moaning and breathing pushed him to the edge. When Lefou encouraged him to keep going, he dipped inside with an almost wild groan. This was overpowering and Gaston couldn’t believe it took him so long to be with LeFou- he barely knew if he would be able to look at women in the same way again. And, fuck, he wouldn’t stand any other men thinking they could get this intimate with LeFou, especially after this. No one besides him had this right. 

“You’re mine, LeFou,” Gaston said when he started moving with more intensity, pressing his fingers against the skin of LeFou’s hip, and pushing his hair out of his face with the other hand so that he could press the lips on his cheek. “And I will never let you go.”

The rhythm they reached was fast and even, and LeFou couldn’t hold for that much time. He came between little cries and moans, and even though it hurt all the same, orgasm made him forget the pain and really enjoy the moment. Gaston was sure that the moans and little cries of LeFou were the prettiest music he could hear. 

LeFou felt exhausted, and allowed his body to fully rest on the bed, even though Gaston was still inside him. LeFou didn't mind. He was out of breath, and his eyes couldn't stay open for more than a couple of second at a time. His eyelids felt so heavy, and it seemed all the energy wasted in the battlefield was leaving his body again. 

A new and unknown feeling overcame Gaston’s consciousness. The way LeFou’s body trembled when he came was incredible. And with all the sensations, the alcohol still running through his veins, Gaston didn’t need to keep the pace for much longer to also reach his climax. Maybe it was the alcohol’s fault, or maybe it was just LeFou’s effect on him, but that didn’t seem enough. Pressing his teeth against the other’s shoulder in a new bite, he reluctantly moved his position, sliding out of LeFou, and lying now by his side.

He was still craving to touch his friend. He kept his hand on LeFou’s thigh. He leaned towards him, touching their foreheads together. 

“This is…” He even tried to say, but the tiredness took over him, mixing with the drunkenness and all the explosion of feelings in such way that not even the new agitation inside him was enough to keep him awake. As soon as he got comfortable, his body gave up, and he passed out into a deep sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We decided to add something new to the chapter! Enjoy! :D Thanks so much to @clingylefou for being our wonderful beta! This has been an amazing journey! Thank you for your support <3

[](http://s306.photobucket.com/user/Malle182/media/Mobile%20Uploads/IMG-20170625-WA0003.jpg.html)

He blinked when he noticed he was on battlefield again. One of the soldiers, Charles was his name, had fallen at his feet without one of his legs. His body was trembling in shock with the recent amputation. Drenched in his blood, Gaston crouched by his side, holding his face with his hands, trying to hear what he was saying while the battle was proceeding like ghosts trespassing him.

“The war is over.” Charles’s lips flickered with a gasped vocal quality. “Now the war is over. We won.” Yes, that was right. The war was over, and Charles survived. Then why were they still there, and why was he was mortally wounded?

When he looked at the soldier again, it wasn’t Charles anymore. William, back from the dead, stared at him with peeved eyes. The shot in his chest was wrought with blood. The soldier’s hands, with an iron grip, took hold of Gaston’s neck with a quick movement. Gaston coughed through attempts to breathe.

“And you’ll be hanged. Just like your friend.”

Gaston was squirming against the mattress while he slept, muttering lost words and growling occasionally. Sweat covered his chest. He fumbled in the bed, looking for his weapon.

“I’ll kill you again. I’ll kill as many times as I need to.” The threat aimed at William in his nightmare, though he spoke aloud. When he finally found his belt discarded earlier on the footboard, he reached for his dagger. 

LeFou woke up from the sudden voice and movements, but didn't have that much time to react. Gaston had a dagger in his hand, and a lost the conscious light in his eyes.

“Gaston, what…” Lefou said blearily. Then, he shouted: “Gaston!” 

He grabbed Gaston by the shoulders, trying to grab the weapon with his own hands.

“Gaston, you'll hurt yourself.” Obviously, Gaston was having a nightmare. A vivid one. “It's fine. It's fine. You just have to wake up. Agh!” 

With a movement Lefou couldn't anticipate, the dagger slid across the palm of Lefou’s hand. The blood didn't wait to pour and stain the white sheets.

The smell of blood, (real blood and not the one painting his nightmares,) woke Gaston up. He was dragged back to reality with a jolt. Gaston focused his eyes to understand the scene in front of him: LeFou’s bleeding hand. Gaston was still holding the dagger. He found himself shaking, the air barely reaching his lungs. When the memories of the previous night hit him, along with the vivid images of the nightmare in his mind, he almost lost himself again.

“I’m sorry.” He said with the horror still present in his eyes. “What did I do to you?” He wasn’t sure if he was talking about the wound, about last night, about war, William’s murder, or everything else. “I’m so sorry.”

LeFou was scared. During the war he couldn't remember being scared like this.

“Don’t.” He said, maybe a bit louder than he wanted, when he saw Gaston approaching. The dagger still in Gaston’s hand. “I… I'll be fine.” 

He grabbed a handkerchief and bandaged his hand. It stung. 

“Please, just… Put down the knife and try to relax. It was just a nightmare.” 

LeFou was trying to calm himself, but the somersault had been too much. 

“It’s just a little bit of blood. That's it.”

The lamp was low on fuel, but Gaston could still see the fear in LeFou’s eyes. He saw the way he avoided any sense of contact. This brought a bitterness inside Gaston’s mouth that only made him grip the weapon tighter. 

“I shouldn’t even be here.” He said to himself, feeling the headache overtake him.

It was not the first time he had nightmares that were strong enough to make him violent throughout the night. He should have known better.

“William tried to choke me, and…” 

Gaston tried to explain himself, but the memories of the nightmare were already foggy, leaving only distress. He ran a hand through his own hair trying to reset his thoughts. 

“Do you want me to call the physician?” 

The last thing he wanted was to explain to the doctor what was going on with him and take the risk of being pointed as insane, but he could find some excuse to explain why LeFou was bleeding.

“I can see him in the morning,” Lefou said dismissively, “It’s not that deep.”

LeFou noticed he could move his fingers, and although the pain was a little overwhelming, the bleeding was already stopping. He changed the handkerchief and tied a fresh one around his palm. 

“Please, leave the dagger on the table. So you can go back to bed.” 

His voice was unsure, but he couldn't be mad at Gaston for a nightmare. It was something a person couldn't control. He had had his own nightmares related to the war, so who was to blame?

“William can't do much, being under ground.” LeFou tried to comfort Gaston, but couldn't bring himself to smile. 

Gaston wanted to try to reach out to him again, but he couldn’t stand to see LeFou reject him again. Gaston was noticing how he, himself, increasingly overreacted when vexed. Sighing in anger, he threw the dagger on the table, jabbing the wooden surface. 

“I’m broken, LeFou, aren’t I?” 

He would personally kill anyone who dared to say such thing about him. But was LeFou. If he couldn’t trust his best friend, who could he trust?

“I did everything they wanted me to do.” 

And look at where Gaston was now: still shivering and sweating from the nightmare.

“Don't say things like that. Come on.” 

Gaston took his hands and placed them on his neck in an unconscious motion, as if reliving his dream. You will be hanged. He wouldn’t if no one discovered this. Besides, no one would hang the war hero. 

He had frozen in fear, and the desperation after the nightmare caused him to believe this.

“What happened between us shouldn’t happen again.” He passed the hand through his own loose hair, fixing his eyes on LeFou.

It shouldn’t, but he knew better. Gaston wanted LeFou, Gaston needed him; but beyond all of this, he loved him, and lusted for the thrill, the danger. It was what he craved the most from battlefields, even more than victory itself. And what happened that night, that forbidden act gathered together all the things he needed.

Even with the hangover, he was feeling so alive. It would happen again.

LeFou stood up and carefully hugged Gaston by the waist, unsure.

“You don't mean that. It was just a nightmare. It wasn't real.” 

He reached Gaston’s cheek and gave him a short peck. 

“Please. Why don't you think about how soon we’ll be on the farm, taking care of the animals and the harvest?” A smiled appeared on Lefou’s lips. “You can be in charge of the employees, and I can take care of the currency.” 

As Lefou spoke, he felt happiness surge through him. It sounded so nice. So beautiful. It was a bright future, and Gaston, too, wanted to believe things would go just like that.

“This is not a life for us, LeFou.” He didn’t move away - Gaston brought him closer - laying his head over his temple despite his words. “They will find about us, and we will face the court.”

Gaston moved the hug so that he could face LeFou straight in his eyes.

“How can you live with this,” he asked, “for as long you’ve been living with this haunting you?”

It was more a question of curiosity than actual worry about their fate. His chest was burning again, as it did during every battle, and he tried to believe it was only a consequence of the nightmare.

LeFou knew Gaston was right. Now that he was also involved in this whole situation, there wasn't a chance of getting his protection. No one would listen to a man trying to defend another if he had committed the same crime. Captain or not. 

“I, ahh…” Lefou stumbled over his words, “I guess I have always known it. Ever since I was a kid I knew I was different.” LeFou bit his lip. “My mom also knew.” 

He smiled, but it was a sad, somber smile. 

“She… She already knew when I told her, so she wasn't mad.” 

The memories were so fresh, even though everything had happened long ago.

“I told her I was in love with you. Right-” he stops again. It is almost too much to say. “Right before we met.” He and Gaston had just slept together, why was it so hard to confess all that? 

A satisfied smile rested on Gaston’s lips- this was everything he wanted to hear.

“You were in love with me all this time?” 

A fulfillment took over his body, as always happened when he heard a praising, overcoming the recent horror. Another reason for him to never let LeFou go, even under threat of death. As much as Gaston enjoyed the admiration of strangers, no one would affect him as much as LeFou did.

“I know we were young but, still…” LeFou’s legs were feeling weak. That was something he never had confessed to anybody other than his mother, and only because she could read everything in his eyes. 

“I remember I was upset because I caught you kissing a girl or something, and my mom was the one to ask me if something was wrong.” LeFou closed his eyes. He could see his mom so clearly, even her smell was so present… Fresh baked bread. 

“She asked me if you had made me upset. I just nodded, and… Then I realized she knew.” LeFou opened his eyes, but didn't make eye contact with Gaston. “She…” He smiled weakly. “She told me I was too good for you… but I knew that wasn't true.”

Gaston stared at his friend with a blank expression, caused by the last sentence. It was scary to think about the truth behind this words, and to realize LeFou would see it eventually and leave him behind.

“You were made for me,” Gaston affirmed, “and I won’t let anyone say otherwise.”

His hand ran through LeFou’s hair now, as Gaston kept staring at his face.

“Look at me, LeFou.” His words were so intense that his whole body seemed to vibrate together as he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me before? Why did you go and… look for the company of another men?”

“I was complete sure you weren’t… like me.” LeFou took a deep breath, “It was hard enough to be so close to you and not being able to… tell you. But I knew it would be worse to lose your friendship.” 

He broke the embrace and sat on the bed again. 

“I started seeking the company of other men when we joined the army. They were never soldiers, though.” LeFou wasn't proud of that, but that wasn't the time to start lying again. 

“Sometimes they were men I met at the tavern. Other times they were… whores.” He said the last word so low. He was not sure if Gaston had heard him. It was incredibly how every single whore house had a decent number of male workers. 

“I just wanted some company, that's all.” LeFou was overwhelmed with shame, feeling so disgusted with himself. 

Gaston went to LeFou again, now crouching down between his legs. “You searched for whores, when you could have had me.” 

A disturbed feeling rose inside Gaston, a little bothered by the mental image of LeFou with some whore. He hadn't expected to be this angry about the people who had bedded LeFou before, but he completely was. 

“But you won’t do it again, will you?”

LeFou said no with a small motion of his head, then said, “You don't regret what we did, do you?” 

The blood from his hand had stopped flowing already, but he could feel the stinging pain stronger than before.

“No, I don’t.” Gaston held LeFou’s injured hand, bringing it to his lips and leaving a kiss where the dagger pierced the skin.

He wasn’t sure if he could face the lack of worries as something positive. It made him feel as if he were too empty to actually care about something. 

“I still think it shouldn’t happen again, though. It’s not safe.” Gaston laid another kiss, now on Lefou’s wrist. And one more on his forearm. “But I never was a man who feared danger.”

LeFou put a hand on Gaston's cheek. “I don't want to put you in danger… Maybe you are right after all. Maybe we shouldn't…” he stopped. 

Though, knowing Gaston wanted him, Lefou won't be able to hold himself back. 

“...I'm scared.” Lefou whispered. 

“I’ll still protect you.” Gaston turned his head to kiss Lefou’s hand gracing his cheek. “No one will put a rope around my neck. I will die fighting if I need to.” 

And he would kill countless Williams who dared to affront him- the idea was enough to tranquilize him. He only had to do what was his best: to keep fighting.

“How? If someone sees us…” LeFou didn't want to think about it. “You promise we'll be careful? I was so dumb, drinking too much and lowering my guard and… I won't let that happen again, I promise.”

“You know I can’t promise that.” His hand crawled LeFou’s chest, reaching for his chin. “But if you lower your guard once more with another man,” Gaston pushed his face to press his lips against him. “I’ll have to find him. ”

It felt like a threat to say the least. 

“Gaston, you have to promise me you won't kill another man for that. It's scary how… easy it is for you to simply do that.”

“I won’t kill anyone.” At least not if they don’t give me a good reason. “Does it make you feel better? But I won’t lose you, to a court or to another man, without a fight.”

LeFou nodded. “I was serious, you know? When I mentioned the farm.” He looked at his hands on his lap. “You are more than welcome to come. I know it's not as exciting as the capital but… it's home.” 

“Living on the farm will give me the chance to hunt more,” Gaston said. 

And for now, he pushed LeFou to lie on the bed again to hug him, allowing himself to dream a little after the nightmare. 

“In my spare time, of course. Because I will take care of the employees, like a responsible...” A responsible what? He still wasn’t sure how things would work between them now.

Trying not to think about it, he pulled the other man against him with more intensity, pushing his face into LeFou’s hair to forget everything that wasn’t them at the present moment. And it was not difficult to blow the thoughts away with LeFou by his side.

“Who wouldn’t like to work for me, right? People would stand in line for the chance.” 

A smirk appeared on his lips. His pride took the best of him.

“I really love Villeneuve.” LeFou was drawing shapes on Gaston's chest. He had spent a lot of time in the capital in the late years, most of the time just following Gaston. “And I know you are in love with the capital but, since the war is over, you don't need to visit it so often. That way you can spend more time in the village?” 

“Villeneuve?” Gaston would never understand LeFou’s obsession with that village. “We would be safer if we spent more time in Paris.” He whispered, still against LeFou’s hair. “But I guess it’s time for me to settle down a little.”

It would be a good place to move. Everyone knew Gaston’s reputation there, and no one would suspect their company. He would be able to keep LeFou right in front of them, and all the villagers would only see what great friends they were.

“I grew up there, Gaston. And my Nana’s farm is one of the most beautiful there.” He rested his head on his hand, supporting it with his elbow on the bed. “Don't you miss the people there? How we used to hunt in the woods?”

“The farm is beautiful. And I’ll miss the hunt more than ever, now that the war is over so, I can hunt there.” Gaston laid a kiss in his collarbone, moving his lips back to the chest. “The people? Not so much.”

A small laugh escaped LeFou’s lips when Gaston pushed him back to bed. “But the village loves you, and they’ll love you even more now that you’re a war hero.” He tucked a stray bunch of hair behind Gaston’s ear. “I would love to scream you are mine once there.”

“Do it.” This was a thought that incited him. “They all saw us growing up together, they’ll only think you’re a deeply-attached friend.” Gaston couldn’t help but smile with LeFou’s laugh. “And they probably will be jealous of you because you are so close with their hero.”

“Yes, especially Claudette, Laurette and Paulette. They’ve been in love with you since we were kids. Everyone expects you to marry one of them.” That didn't seem funny to LeFou at all. “Gosh, I don't like them at all!”

“I guess I should marry the three of them.” Gaston sounded too serious for a moment. “I can’t let people’s expectations down.”

But his jaw was clenched again, and the exasperation was suddenly big enough to suffocate him. “You see, that’s the kind of people they expect me to marry in Villeneuve.”

And for him it sounded even worse to see LeFou stuck with one of them. “And they also expect you to marry a village girl.”

“That isn’t happening.” LeFou said convincingly. “Besides, I'm not sure if I could fulfill my… duty as a husband.” He had never been with a woman. 

Well, there was a prostitute once, but LeFou didn't do anything with her. It had happened many years ago when he had decided maybe he didn't like women because he didn't know how it was to be with one. 

It didn't work out, but LeFou let the girl have the money. She had been kind with him. 

Gaston frowned, confused with the thought that someone wouldn’t feel attracted to women. He knew a man could have preferences, but not being able at all? 

He pushed the pleasant feeling away from his voice, knowing LeFou wouldn’t lay with a woman.  
If LeFou was good enough for Gaston, there wasn’t any doubt he would be good enough for the locals.

“That’s not a choice, LeFou,” he said. “The villagers will start asking why you keep rejecting ladies. What will be your excuse?”

“I-I’ve never thought about it.” There was fear in his voice. “Do you think that would be fair for the girl? I wouldn't like to make her life miserable. It's not her fault.” LeFou said sadly. He knew Gaston was right, but he couldn't accept the idea. 

"There are worse fates for them." Gaston was sympathetic in his own way with women and the kind of life they had. 

But that didn't mean he would do anything to help, it was just like men with unusual lifestyle - it wasn't fair they had to die because of it, but it wasn't something he thought it could change.

"There are worse fate for us as well, LeFou."

All the ghosts from the recent nightmare and war came back at once, and a cold shiver made his body spasm as he tried to focus on marriage again.

"You'll be a good husband. Life doesn't get better than this for people like us."

That was true, but it hurt so damn much.

“Will you help me find the right girl? I'm so… not good at it. I don't even know when they are flirting or when it's time for me to do it.” LeFou passed his fingers along Gaston's lips. “And the kids… just thinking about having to lay with her.” His expression was restless. “Would you help me with that as well?”

“Believe me, I hate the idea as much as you. I don’t want to share you, not even with a woman.” A vexed groan came out of Gaston’s throat, as he kissed the fingers on his lips. “But with my help, you will be able to choose a woman who suits you best.”

He searched for LeFou’s lips again, thirsty to chase away the bitterness to help him to find someone. To temper him to bed another person - would he be able to let it happen?

“And we will have the most adorable kids.” It was a burst, he slithered one of his hands between LeFou’s legs, tightening his inner thighs, next to his crotch.

This talk about other people between them was disorientating, he needed some reassurance, to feel LeFou react to his touch.

“Will I be the one you always think about? The only one you want?” He let their lips together, whispering against the kiss.

“You've always been the one I'm thinking about, any time I'm lying with another person.” LeFou bit Gaston's lip, “Can I ask… When did you start to notice me?” He lowered his hand to Gaston's crotch, massaging him a little. 

As it always happened, LeFou seemed to guess what Gaston was wanting to hear. It made the Captain vibrate a satisfied sound in his throat, as he felt the hand over him.

He responded, “When the war started.” 

He opened his way inside LeFou’s pants in a brutish gesture. His focus now was to brand LeFou, to make a mark that wouldn’t let him forget about Gaston, that would compel LeFou to think about him even when they were apart. The feeling of another member in his hands was still new, but he knew what he was doing. He was always perfect in everything.

“You were no longer only my loyal friend, nor someone who would live in my shadow. You were a smart and tactical man who could not only handle a pistol, but also create such intricate attack plans.” 

And he was getting so hard again. How had LeFou managed to absorb him that much?

“That was when I started to need you by my side. Not only because it made me feel better, but because I wanted you.” He couldn’t say about his feelings before the war, everything was still so blurred and confused. “And I still want you so much, it’s blazing me.”

LeFou raised his head to start kissing Gaston's neck. “Can we make love again?” He asked in a whisper. 

There he was, with Gaston on top of him. That had been his wildest dream for so long, but now that he had it, it wasn't enough. Now, LeFou wanted for this to become his life, and to not have to hide the truth to the world. But that was impossible, and it was slowly breaking his heart. 

“Please.” LeFou almost pleaded. “I want you to be inside of me once more.”

While getting comfortable on top of LeFou, as a slave of that request, Gaston asked himself if this could be described as making love. It was so obscene, so carnal and full of voluptuousness, as everything he did in his life, and he felt as if he would never be capable of something so pure as love.

But LeFou’s blushed skin, his messy hair falling all over the pillow, those sweet pleas and wanton look made Gaston adore someone else other than himself. Maybe it would be him who would keep this scene in his mind when even they were together.

“All night if you want to.” His voice was rough as he pulled LeFou’s pants down again, fitting himself between his legs. And a moment ago he was saying that should never happen again- that was so far from the truth.

“Gaston…” LeFou’s cheeks were red; he looked like he had ran a thousand miles. “I don't mind if it's not true but… can you say you love me?” He hated to sound desperate, but he was there, feeling all those emotions. Feeling so… vulnerable. Like never before. He simply needed to make that night perfect. 

Gaston stopped the right moment he heard the request. He was still over LeFou, staring at him fixedly, when all the emptiness of his emotions seemed deeper than ever. 

“I can’t lie to you, LeFou.” 

He couldn’t lie to LeFou not even to defend himself. How could Gaston lie about something so sensitive that would hurt him?

“I said I’m broken.” Gaston could feel despair, the pain, the fear of losing LeFou to someone who could actually say those damned words - and all the bloody consequences they could bring. He felt the anger and loss, the lust, and above all, the darkness that always seemed to be on the verge of swallowing him. But…

“There’s nothing good inside me anymore.”

If he could still feel love, he would feel it for LeFou. But there was no space inside him to shelter such feeling.

LeFou nodded slowly, then smiled carefully, sadly. “It's fine…” He was still nodding and smiling when a tear rolled down on one side of his face, getting lost in his hair. “It's alright.” He caressed Gaston's cheek. 

He had broken his own heart when he had made that request. It was all his fault for not thinking before speaking. Of course Gaston didn't love him. How could he? But LeFou knew that already. That wasn't the worst part… The worst part was that Gaston couldn't even pretend. That he couldn't even lie about loving him. 

“Listen to me, LeFou.” It was not fine, it would never be fine. “You’re everything to me. You keep me on the right side of sanity, and I have no idea where I would be now if I didn’t have you.” But he needed to make LeFou understand, because that broken look on his face would be another thing to haunt Gaston.

“I would do anything for you. But I’m too numb.”

“I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have requested something so stupid.” 

LeFou didn't know where to hide. He wasn't feeling special anymore. He felt like he did in dark rooms and alleyways with faceless, soulless strangers. 

He kissed Gaston desperately, almost harshly.

“Can you fuck me already?” It wasn't about making love anymore, it was about feeling each other’s bodies, and fulfil a primary instinct. It was about making Gaston happy, it was about making him stay. 

Once again, Gaston shouldn’t. Not like this. Not while there was so much unresolved pain between them. 

But his body was urging to be inside LeFou again, making his mind too steamed to think this over. So he did as requested, and positioned himself pushing inside LeFou, looking not only for relief, but for a connection.

He could see he was not the only one broken, LeFou also had his own ghosts. But why he was capable of love, and Gaston couldn't anymore? 

“Stop saying it was stupid.” Gaston said, sounding as a command, even if it wasn’t his intention. He couldn’t stand how LeFou would belittle himself.

LeFou buried his fingernails in Gaston's back, letting go a cry of pain, but he didn't mind. It was part of it. So, he circled Gaston’s hips with his legs, making him go deeper, making him feel more. 

“I love you…” LeFou finally whispered. “I don't mind if you don't love me back, I love you anyway.” He felt a great relief after finally saying those words. Maybe greater than to have an ‘I love you’ back. It didn't matter if Gaston already knew. The words were there, and were his own. 

Somehow, Gaston found what he was looking for- they were connected. He was closer to LeFou than he would ever be with another person. But he also knew it wasn’t enough. Listening the confession, he was filled with a refreshing feeling, like a small light inside him, and he couldn’t lose this light.

“I can’t lose you.” He said, thrusting harder and with more intensity. And he felt so close to climax again. His breath reduced only to small pants as he rested his face against LeFou’s cheek.

When the thrusting became almost too much to bear, LeFou came with such an intensity that he thought that could be classified as the best orgasm of his life. And he continued to enjoy every moment of it since Gaston wasn't done yet. 

“...Come inside.” He whispered against Gaston ear, feeling too exhausted to open his eyes. 

“Don’t sleep this time.” Gaston managed to say, keeping the movement of his hips, feeling as if he could continue until LeFou was hard again, but Gaston decided he was taking too much of his energy already.

So he just relaxed and let the orgasm hit him, coming with a fierceness that made his whole body flutter. Gaston still allowed himself to thrust a few more times, only to prolong the sensation, burying his face in the curve of LeFou’s neck.

“Don’t sleep.” He whispered again. “Stay with me.”

LeFou smiled weakly. He had no idea what time it was, but their first encounter had been almost at midnight. And when they had woken up (because of Gaston's nightmare) it was still dark, so it must had been a couple of hours before dawn. 

“I'm still here. I'm just too tired.” The second encounter had really exhausted LeFou, but he managed to open his eyes. 

“You can keep your eyes closed.” Gaston rolled to lay on his side, still looking at him. “But don’t sleep. Not now.”

His hand stayed caressing LeFou’s hair, keeping it behind his ear. He seemed so beautiful right now that Gaston felt his chest squeeze a little.

“How is it?” The question came out of his lips before he could realize. “Love?”

Gaston needed to know if he had felt this before, if it was something he lost during war or if it was something he never had at all . He needed to know if there was hope for him. That made him feel like a child, filled with silly questions, but there was something even worse. The sting of insecurity was coming back.

“It’s like…” LeFou closed his eyes again. “A muscle inside your body you didn't know you had until it starts to hurt.” Yeah, it was like that, because love hurt so damn much. “And it doesn't stop…” His voice was tired as well, but he tried to form his ideas in the clearest way possible. “And when you see that person it starts to hurt even more.”

“But sometimes…” LeFou continued. “The hurt becomes something else, and the frustration to shut down your feelings stops for a little and… you feel so happy the pain is no longer there…” He made a small pause, more asleep than awake. “But I guess that's my vision of it, so to each their own. But if that's the case to everybody then… I guess you have to experience pain so you can appreciate the joy.”

He turned to Gaston, opening his eyes. “Like right now. I'm so happy you are here with me, I don't care you never noticed me this way before. Or that all this might not mean anything to you tomorrow.”

“Love’s not really a good thing, is it?” Gaston was lost in his own thoughts, while he led his hand down to hold LeFou’s.

“It would be as a small candle between a dark place?” He tried to find the right words, closing his eyes languidly. “As a balance point in the middle of a madness? When the person seems to have more importance than yourself?”

“It hasn't been that good for me but, I guess it can also be like you describe it.” LeFou turned to Gaston a little, and started to pass a finger along his forehead, then nose, then lips and chin, memorizing every single detail. “It can be hope, if you know that love can be reciprocated.”

It was reality striking Gaston again. He thought love would be a better thing, that poetic feeling he always heard about. At least, he wished it was this way. It had to be something good in reality.

It looked like he was wrong.

“It’s not hope for me. It seems more like fear, and paranoia. It seems more like finally finding something good only to spend the rest of your life afraid of losing it.”

“That's what makes it special. Otherwise we would take everything for granted.” LeFou kissed Gaston's cheek. “I'm sure you’ll find someone to love.” 

It hurt to say that, even though it was a beautiful statement.

“Do you remember Belle? The inventor’s daughter that arrived to town a few days before us coming here? You said she was gorgeous.”

Gaston frowned at the mention of inventor’s daughter out of nowhere. “I don’t need to find love between the girls of the village. Not even from Belle.” He needed a wife, and that was a whole different story.

“You misunderstood me.” 

And he couldn’t blame LeFou, as he still couldn’t understand himself. He was discovering too much and too fast about what he kept deep inside him for so long, under so many layers of self-protection. 

“I’m not trying to guess what love is, LeFou, I’m describing how I feel now.”

“Then… I guess you are on the right track, I mean…” LeFou was out of words for the sudden confession. “That means you might be in love, but… that's up for you to decide.” He hugged Gaston's chest. “We should sleep… We have to wake up in a couple of hours.” That conversation had had many layers, good and bad, but it was also full of hope, and that was what scared him the most. 

Gaston groaned in displeasure with the idea of waking up to face the rest of the camp - he still have to solve so many questions before finally leaving, when he just wanted to be there, quiet.

“This is the first time I’m actually relieved that I won’t have to face another battlefield.” 

He wasn’t sure if it was only the bliss post-orgasm or something else - probably something else - but for a moment, everything seemed settle down, comfortable. Gaston was fitting in his own skin, and he wasn’t even afraid of the nightmares if he slept again. He was feeling safe.

“I was wrong. I was so wrong.” He still mumbled, in an almost asleep state. “I do love you.”

But LeFou had already fallen asleep.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find us on Tumblr as @ImpossibleShamelessEarthquake and @Malleland!
> 
> Nana: It's my first post here on Ao3, and really I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it!  
> This ship is addictive in a whole new level.  
> Malle: Hope you enjoy it! :)


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